


Like Yellow Does On Blue

by reason_says



Category: Bandom, Jack's Mannequin, Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-06
Updated: 2006-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-12 18:52:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reason_says/pseuds/reason_says
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing Rhymes With Circus tour. Mixtapes. FBR is contagious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Yellow Does On Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: To the best of my knowledge, this never happened. I am in no way affiliated with any of the real people referenced herein, and I am making no money from this.
> 
> Dedications: To [fizzyblogic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/phizzle/pseuds/fizzyblogic), for writing the story that started my obsession with this pairing. Also to [](http://stumphed.livejournal.com/profile)[**stumphed**](http://stumphed.livejournal.com/) for inspiring said story.

**Like Yellow Does On Blue**

Andrew wakes up, and they're in Portland. He knows this because the bus is stopped, he's the only one still in his bunk, and there's a calendar on the wall with crossed off dates and the word 'Portland' written in the most recent uncrossed square. He's always been good at context clues.

What he's not good at is figuring out why there's an envelope on the pillow next to his head. He supposes he should be grateful he woke up before one of the corners poked his eye out, but he's not. He's just confused.

He sits up, automatically ducking to keep from hitting his head on the bunk ceiling. He grabs the envelope, turning it over in his hands, trying to guess what it contains. It's padded, giving no hint of its contents, and there's no writing on the surface; no indication of who might have snuck onto his bus and left this mysterious gift.

He carefully slides open the flap, avoiding tearing it more than absolutely necessary, just in case whatever's inside is fragile. He carefully tilts the envelope, and a tape falls out.

A tape. With 'Mixed Tape' written on the label.

For a moment, Andrew thinks he's woken up in one of his own videos.

Well, if he has, he might as well get some music out of it. He swings himself out of the bunk and pads toward the lounge, grateful for the boombox Bobby insisted on bringing. He pops the tape into the slot, presses play, and flops down on the couch.

At first, he has no idea what he's hearing. It sounds like classical music, but it's familiar somehow. Then the bridge hits, and he realises he's listening to a string version of Imagine. Well. This is interesting. It gets more interesting when the strings fade into Calico Skies. Andrew is tempted to fast-forward the tape, see if they're all Beatles-related songs, but that would be both irrelevant and disrespectful to the mysterious mixer.

 _I'll hold you for as long as you like  
I'll love you for the rest of my  
For the rest of my life._

Suddenly, a dominatrix's voice rings out. "Head down! You understand me?"

Oh.

This is.

This is emphatically not a love song.

Not that Andrew minds, really, because anyone who likes the Beatles and Green Day can't be all bad, but he has to wonder just what this person intends.

Well, whatever her (or his, because really: what women have access to the bus?) intentions, the tone changes again, this time to a Brit singing about love and going home. Of course, Andrew recognises Dirty Pretty Things, but he's beyond that by now; he's just listening to the words, trying to decipher some clue to the giver's identity. It almost has to be someone on the tour, which means it almost has to be a man. He's not certain how he feels about that.

He's never thought about his sexuality, exactly. Sure, he occasionally thinks guys are attractive: he suspects that anyone who claims otherwise is lying or stupid. Sure, he even thinks the Panic guys are attractive, if incredibly young. But he's never really considered men as a romantic option.

Granted, the Panic guys have been giving him doubts both ways. Is it one of them? Does he want it to be? By the time he turns his attention back to the music, the next song is almost over and he has to rewind the tape.

He doesn't recognise this one: an almost unbearably long, half techno, half glam rock-sounding song about, as near as he can tell, cameras stealing souls. He remembers the blinding wave of flashes from the audience and realises the tape _must_ be from one of the other bands. Who else would understand?

That narrows it down to nine, which is something. Andrew's not part of the scene, but even he knows about Gabe, William and Travis, so Gabe's out. (Or maybe not, but Andrew has a [possibly misplaced] trust in Gabe not to involve him in something that complicated.) He's pretty sure Alex and Ryland are together (and "My God," he thinks, "is everyone on Fueled By Ramen gay?"), and he's not spent enough time with Nate or Elisa to consider them, as it's been his experience that some familiarity is required to create a great mixtape, and he doesn't see the point in making a less-then-great mixtape. So now he's down to four.

Jon has Cassie, and Andrew's never gotten any indication that they're anything but monogamous, so he's out of the picture. Down to three, then. Ryan seems the most likely candidate for homosexuality, but somehow Andrew doubts he's Ryan's type. Unless, of course, all those pictures of Pete Wentz on the ceiling of Ryan's bunk are merely for Artistic Inspiration.

By the time Andrew narrows it down to Brendon and Spencer, he's missed half of Patrick Stump singing Let's Get It On. He thinks he may have missed a Michael Jackson song as well, but decides it's better not to investigate.

Instead, he thinks back over the tour. Has there been any indication from either of them? Have they been flirting with him? He doesn't think so, but was he too dense to notice, or are they too good at hiding it?

Then he remembers. Spencer has been spending a lot of time with Andrew lately. Until this moment, he never considered it to be anything but friendship, and possibly wanting to escape from Ryan Ross and his endless lectures about his Grand Artistic Vision. Thinking back, though, there were more fleeting touches and lingering glances than Andrew usually gets from his friends. Not to mention that one time when they fell asleep watching The Big Lebowski (Andrew's still not sure how they managed that) and woke up with a blanket pulled over them. John's still giving Andrew weird looks because of that.

 _So come on, baby  
Stop beating 'round the bush._

Andrew's eyes widen, and he knows who he wants the tape to be from.

The next song starts in a burst of guitars, and the lyrical style is like Green Day circa Kerplunk, but the lyrics are completely unfamiliar.

 _Talk about the ways I grew to love you,  
And all the things I held above you._

Andrew drops his head to his hands, barely letting himself hope, but feeling his heart racing all the same.

 _I'll be waiting for that moment to come  
When I know that it's you I wanna kiss._

Suddenly the tape crackles, and there are a few seconds of silence before a familiar voice speaks.

"I, um. I know it's kind of weird using this next song, especially considering the medium," Spencer says, sounding more uncertain than Andrew's ever heard him. "But, um, I don't tend to have the most linear taste in music, and this was pretty much the only way to make sure you know what the hell I'm trying to say here." His voice grows strained at the end of the sentence, trailing off into a laugh, as if he had been trying to get as much out as possible before taking his next breath. "So, um. Here goes, I guess."

There's a click, and another few seconds of silence, and then the music starts. And Andrew's prepared for another vaguely-connected song, but the revelation that this is Spencer's tape, that _Spencer made him a mixed tape,_ keeps him from recognising the tune at first. Then he snaps his head up and stares intently at the turning wheels of the tape, because that's _his voice_ coming out of the speakers.

 _This is morning  
That's when I spend the most time  
Thinking 'bout what I've given up  
This is a warning--_

Andrew looks down, listening to his words. Spencer sent this to him. Spencer made him a mixed tape. Spencer put this song on it, and made it clear exactly why. He doesn't move, barely even breathes, until the song is over.

 _\--this is my mixed tape for her  
It's like I wrote every note  
With my own fingers._

The tape clicks to a stop, and Andrew is out the door.

Zach is drunk, and consequently very little help, but when questioned, points Andrew in the general direction of 'Backstage'. Andrew suspects he could have figured that out without help, but doesn't complain.

Once he's found 'Backstage', he just follows the sound of Brendon rambling. In the past few weeks, he's learned that that's the best way to find the band: Brendon only stops talking when no one else is there, and sometimes he talks to himself. The nonsensical noise grows louder and louder until, almost by accident, Andrew stumbles upon the dressing room.

True to form, Brendon is talking to his reflection, while Ryan types away on his Sidekick (and "My God," Andrew thinks, "does everyone on Fueled By Ramen have one of those?") and Spencer reads. Andrew steps into the room, knocking on the open door as he does so. Brendon doesn't turn away from the mirror, and Ryan barely looks up, but Spencer jerks upright and, after a quick glance at Andrew, becomes deliberately indifferent.

"Spencer," Andrew says, surprising himself with how calm he sounds, "Can I talk to you?"

"Yeah, sure." Apparently Spencer can be calm too, when he wants to be. "Here, or..."

"Somewhere else, probably." Andrew glances at Brendon, who is watching them in the mirror, and at Ryan, who is studiously not looking up, and wonders if they know. In any case, this doesn't seem like the sort of conversation he wants to have in front of other people, so he heads out the door. When he glances back, he sees Spencer practically spring up from the couch, and Ryan give him a preoccupied thumbs-up. That answers that question, then.

Andrew walks down the hallway, grateful for the slamming door he hears behind him. He can't find another room, and at least this way the sound won't carry straight to the rest of the band.

When he thinks he's gone far enough, he turns around, only to find Spencer right behind him. Spencer backs up quickly, and God, Andrew doesn't need to be thinking about how much _younger_ than him Spencer is, but he looks it at that moment, eyes fixed to the floor as if he expects Andrew to yell at him. And hell, Andrew realises, maybe he does. It took guts to leave the mixed tape, especially considering he can't have been certain that Andrew even likes men. Suddenly, bizarrely, Andrew want to hug him.

Fortunately, he's able to resist.

"Hey," he says softly, instead. "Hey, look at me."

Spencer does, and Andrew is both surprised by and strangely proud of the defiant look in his eyes. "So, what did you want to talk about?" he asks, not quite sullenly.

Now it's Andrew who's at a loss for words. "Well, you can probably guess, can't you?" He knows as soon as the words leave his mouth that that was the wrong thing to say, and he cringes.

"So that's it? You're just going to make half-references? Because we could have done that in there." Spencer jerks his thumb over his shoulder toward the dressing room. He's still acting brave, but Andrew can see the fear in his eyes. "You got the tape, right? And you listened to it, and you know it's from me, and now you're going to tell me we're better as friends or some bullshit like that." Even Spencer looks a little surprised at his vehemence, and he looks down again.

"No!" Andrew steps forward, but Spencer steps back and shakes his head. "It's not that! Well." He reconsiders. "It's about the tape. But it's not bad!" He hastens to reassure Spencer, knowing he'd never have had the guts for something like this when _he_ was that age.

"Not bad." Spencer smirks bitterly. "Does that mean it's good? Or that you're just going to let me forget this ever happened and go back to reading?"

"God!" Andrew's nerves, already frayed from the double realisations about Spencer and himself, snap. "What is your problem? I'm trying to talk to you about the tape you gave me, and it's like you're trying to escape! Why'd you make it if you're not going to follow through?"

Spencer, who was in the process of turning around, freezes. The resulting pose looks very uncomfortable, but Andrew doesn't have time to care. He's too busy: Stepping forward.  
Grabbing Spencer's shoulders.  
Pulling him closer.  
Kissing him.

Spencer makes a shocked noise against Andrew's mouth, and opens his own to protest. No fool, Andrew takes the opportunity to run his tongue across Spencer's lip, and is a little surprised at how quickly Spencer opens up to him. Apparently, Andrew's mouth is magic. Good to know. (Not that he's not been told that before, but never in this situation. Well. Not _quite._ )

Andrew has no idea why he's thinking such ridiculous thoughts when he has a Spencer affixed to his mouth. He suspects it's his brain's way of distancing itself from the experience so he won't have a heart attack. Which, under normal circumstances, would be appreciated, because heart attacks are to be avoided. But this is _Spencer,_ and this is _kissing,_ so he tells his brain to kindly fuck off.

It does.

Unfortunately, it's not quite returned by the time Spencer breaks away, panting, so they stare at each other for a few moments before their brains catch up with their bodies. (Andrew briefly thinks something ridiculous about bloodflow, and takes that to mean that his mind is returning.)

"You..." Spencer whispers, eyes wide.

"I..." Andrew whispers back, raising a hand to stroke Spencer's cheek.

"You really-- I mean--" Spencer cuts himself off.

"I really do," Andrew assures him, smiling gently.

Spencer smiles, bright and happier than Andrew's ever seen him. "Could we, I mean, do you wanna maybe gooutsometime?" He says it like that, all one word, and in the middle of deciphering it Andrew is distracted by Ryan and Brendon peering around the dressing room door. He smiles and salutes them, laughing when they disappear.

He looks back at Spencer, and silences his questions with a quick kiss. "Yeah," he says. "I would really want that."

Spencer watches the opening set that night, and Andrew wishes he could tell the audience why he's more energetic than he's been in years.

~~~~~  
For the curious, [here](http://whatsername-80.livejournal.com/1011.html) is the tracklist for the mixed tape.


End file.
